


Hold Your Ponies

by itlikesthegirls



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, basically just these goons being ridiculous together, but there's silly fluff to keep us afloat awhile, erin gets slimed, holtz comes in clutch, this ship burns slowly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-08-31 06:56:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8568637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itlikesthegirls/pseuds/itlikesthegirls
Summary: Erin gets slimed again. Holtz senses an opportunity.Slow buildup to Holtzbert with lots of goofballery along the way.





	1. "Let's unpack this bitch and hit the library"

Erin Gilbert sighed in the back seat of the Ecto-3. Holtzmann was driving the gang home from a nasty bust in which Erin had once again received the brunt of the damage. She was coated head to toe in ectoplasmic residue. Dried flakes of goo cracked off her jumpsuit every time she shifted in her seat. She looked like a snake shedding her skin.

The ectoplasm in Erin's hair had dried on the long drive back to the firehouse, and-little known fact-dried ectoplasm itched worse than any rash Erin had ever had, and that’s saying something considering her storied history with dermal irritations.

She grimaced as she recalled her numerous run-ins with poisonous plants at summer camps throughout her childhood. She had attended all those camps with Abby, and yet Erin was the only one who had been afflicted. She truly was a magnet for misfortune.  Poison oak, ivy, sumac. She shuddered as she remembered the time with the fire ants. Erin had done it all.

Nothing compared to dried ectoplasm; her head was on fire, and she couldn’t do anything about it until they got back to the firehouse, back to her blessed shower. Scratching somehow only made it worse, so Erin sat in silence and brooded.

She tapped her foot and squirmed in her seat impatiently as she focused on the mental image of herself showering. Soon.

Patty noticed her fidgeting from the middle seat. She sat in-between Erin and Abby, the three Ghostbusters being confined to the back seat what with the front seat being occupied with the overflow of Holtzmann’s newest toys they had tried out for the first time tonight.

Holtzmann had strayed from her firearm aesthetic and literally gone medieval for each of her friends. The four of them had watched Braveheart last weekend during one of the crew’s famous Saturday night movie binges, complete with a comforting amalgam of pizza and sweats, and when the movie ended Holtz had bolted up to her lab, murmuring excitedly about feeling inspired and sorry in advance for the noise.

Patty, Abby, and Erin put up with her clanging and banging the whole night through with as little resentment as they could muster.

There were certain things about Dr. Jillian Holtzmann one just had to accept, one of those being that she could be taken by her passion for invention at any given moment. Yes, occasionally it would happen at two in the morning just as everyone else was ready to go to bed. But they couldn’t stifle her genius, couldn’t put a cap on a brain like that just so they could get one good night’s sleep. They had to let Holtz be Holtz.

They didn't see Holtzmann for three whole days. One of them would periodically place a meal, usually Chinese takeout, at the foot of the staircase. Holtzmann did her best Santa Claus impression because they never saw her take the food, but they took the empty plates and waited.

When Holtzmann finally emerged from her lab, all they could do was shake their heads as she proudly presented each woman with their new personalized toy. They each internally praised their patience and felt a deep sense of pride for their brilliant engineer, their glorious weirdo.

For Abby, Holtzmann had crafted a proton flail that extended farther the harder it was swung. The dynamics would take some getting used to, but Abby was already in love with the thing. In a pinch, Abby could take out a whole line of ghosts with one fell swoop.

For Patty, a massive proton war hammer that, upon impact with ghost or ground, sent out a pulse that momentarily stunned nearby spectral entities. Patty chattered incessantly about the combo possibilities. She and Abby would talk for hours discussing new combat strategies.

For Erin, an elegant proton sword and shield set. Holtzmann explained to her that the shield was designed to deflect ectoplasmic projections, knowing how prone Erin was to the stuff. The shield module attached to her left wrist and automatically deployed only when Erin lifted her arm up in front of her face.

Erin, once again resisting the urge to scratch the living hell out of her scalp, still needed practice with it despite Holtzmann’s intuitive and thoughtful design. Finding that urge harder and harder to resist, she sat on her hands, bit her bottom lip, and tried to find something on which to focus her mind. Holtzmann being the subject of her previous thoughts, she settled on that.

Jillian Holtzmann was laid back in the driver seat, legs splayed out, right hand at 12 o’clock, head and right knee bobbing in time to the hip hop song playing on the radio. Her window was open and her left arm rested casually on the windowsill. She wore a smirk coated in matte red lipstick, a stark contrast to the yellow spectacles that enveloped her light blue eyes. Her golden hair whipped around in the wind, but Holtz seemed unperturbed.

A twinge of mirth ran through Erin despite her extreme discomfort. Holtzmann lived in a perpetual state of feeling herself that Erin could only admire from afar.

Suddenly, Holtzmann’s eyes snapped up to meet Erin’s through the rear view mirror as if she had felt Erin’s stare. A cocky grin spread slowly across Holtz’s face and she winked at Erin before returning her eyes to the road.

Erin felt funny. She thought the ectoplasm must be seeping into her brain. Symptoms: lightheadedness, warm cheeks.

Patty finally spoke up when Erin exhaled shakily. “Hangin' in there, baby?”

Erin’s nostrils flared in irritation. She knew Patty meant well, but Erin had just succeeded in distracting herself and Patty’s question brought her back to her uncomfortable reality.

She spoke quietly and deliberately through her teeth. “I need a shower.”

Patty eyed Erin’s crusty scalp and smiled sheepishly. “Well, we’re almost home, pumpkin. Hold tight.”

Erin nodded tersely and took a white-knuckle grip on the passenger door handle.

“Damn,” Patty said, “I didn't mean literally. You ain’t joking.” She pointed to Erin’s head. “That shit itches that bad?”

“It does,” Erin deadpanned, “not that I’m surprised you don’t already know that. I always get the worst of it.”

Patty gave her an apologetic half smile. “You ever think about wearing a hairnet? Or a shower cap?”

Abby snorted and barked a laugh from her side of the car. “I would pay good money to see that, Erin. In fact, I'm going to Bed Bath & Beyond tomorrow and buying one for you. I'm thinking green.”

“Right. Because I don’t look ridiculous enough in my jumpsuit as it is. Let’s add a shower cap to the ensemble.” Erin pouted and sank further into her seat, resigning herself to her misery.

“Nonsense. You look absolutely dashing in that jumpsuit, Gilbert.” Holtzmann paused and grinned shamelessly at Erin through the rear view mirror. “Well, maybe not right now. But, y’know. Usually.”

“Thanks, Holtzmann. You really know how to cheer a girl up.”

Holtz smirked and she either ignored or didn't notice Erin’s sarcasm as she gave Erin a two-fingered salute. Abby and Patty jumped back into their discussion of the possibilities of Holtzmann’s new toys. Erin brooded silently the rest of the way home.

 

* * *

 

Twenty painful minutes later the Ecto-3 came to a jarring halt in the garage, and Erin burst out of the hearse and into the firehouse, desperately trying to kick off her boots and unzip her jumpsuit simultaneously as she stumbled to her bathroom. She got to the bottom of the staircase before she had to stop and struggle with the zipper as it too was coated in ectoplasmic residue. It wouldn’t budge.

Erin whined in frustration and was almost brought to tears, crumpling to the floor in resignation as her companions made their way in behind her.

Abby and Patty stopped in the doorway and stared at her pityingly. Patty opened her mouth as if to speak just as Holtzmann jumped out in front of the two of them dramatically, both arms raised in the universal sign for "stop," combat boots smacking loudly on the floor. Patty shrieked and Abby gasped loudly in shock.

“God damn! You tryna give me a mothafuckin heart attack?”

“Jesus, Holtzmann!”

Ignoring their reactions and going full game show hostess, Holtz began, “Ladies and ladies,” Holtz snatched a wrench from a nearby table to use as a microphone, “it’s time to play everybody’s favorite game, Let’s Make a Trade!" Looking into a far away imaginary camera, "Brought to you by our lord and savior, Ellen DeGeneres.” Holtz put her hands together and bowed her head in prayer. She pulled Abby and Patty into a huddle, nearly smacking Patty in the head with the wrench in the process.

Holtz discarded the game show voice and lowered her voice mischievously. “Here’s the deal. What say you two unpack the Ecto-3 and let me take care of our sticky little damsel in distress over here, then skedaddle on outta here for the evening. In return, I promise to make you both another medieval proton weapon of your choosing. I am open to performing the Unbreakable Vow if you deem it necessary.”

Patty’s eyes widened. “Another weapon? Like, anything?" She looked from Holtz to Abby and back again. "'Cause I want a catapult. You think you can make a big ass proton catapult?"

Holtz's eyes widened in return, and she bowed on one knee before giving Patty her best tight-lipped dimple smile. "I've never been prouder of your ambition. If my queen commands it, I shall obey."

"Holtzy, baby, you could’ve just asked, but I’ll take you up on that offer for sure." The two women laughed and high fived.

Abby piped up, "Really, Patty? A catapult? When would we ever use that?"

Holtz looked thoughtful. "I can think of five, no,  _six_ good uses for a proton catapult  _today."_

Abby put her face in her hands. "I . . . please don't elaborate."

Holtz grinned at her. "So? What's your poison, Abs?"

"I think you'll have enough work on your hands with the catapult, Holtz. But thank you for the offer."

Patty clapped Abby on the shoulder. "C’mon, let’s unpack this bitch and hit the library. I got some reading I need to do anyway.”

“Deal. Holtz, hit me.” Abby assumed the position and the two performed the signature Handshake of Friendship, Holtz wiggling her hips and staring down Abby with her most endearing manic expression the whole while. Abby ruffled Holtz’s hair affectionately and glanced over at Erin, who now laid coffin-style on the floor, hands clasped over her stomach.

Abby grimaced and sighed, “I didn’t really want to mess with that mess, anyway," winking knowingly at Holtz. "Good luck."

Holtz watched the two women make their way back to the garage before spinning on her heels toward Erin. She walked slowly toward her friend, who stared blankly at the ceiling in utter defeat.

Holtz bent over her stiffly and poked her in the ribs. No response. Holtz frowned and poked her twice more. Still nothing.

"It seems the subject has gone catatonic,” Holtzmann murmured into a fake recorder. "I'll need to perform more tests in order to confirm my hypothesis."

She laid down next to Erin and let out a loud, exaggerated sigh, spreading her arms behind her head. After a moment, Holtz lifted herself up slightly to rest her weight on her elbow.

“Hey. Gilbert.”

Rib poke.

“Gilbert.”

Poke.

“Hey.”

Poke.

 _“Gilbert.”_ Pouting dramatically, Holtz leaned in and, raising the pitch of her voice, sang into Erin’s ear, “Gilllllberrrrrrt.”

Erin finally pulled her head away and whined, “Just leave me here to die, Holtz. I’m stuck in this jumpsuit forever. I will never be clean again. I’m dying. Scratch that.” Erin kicked herself internally for the accidental pun. “I’m dead. I’ve died. Death has come upon me.”

Holtz turned on her monster voice, "I am become death, the destroyer of worlds."

"Is that from . . . the lord of song?"

"Nope," popping the 'p,' "c'mon Erin. 'The lord of song' is part of a Leonard Cohen lyric. That's from the song of the lord. The-"

"Bhagavad Gita. Right. Fitting."

Holtzmann just smiled at her. Conversation was easy with Erin when Erin chose to participate. They laid there for another moment in a comfortable silence.

"I'm still dead over here, Holtz."

“Dataset opposite affirms your conclusion. Further experimentation required.” Three quick rib pokes.

A laugh bubbled out of Erin despite herself, and she grabbed Holtz’s hand before she could poke her again. She turned to the engineer and shook her head at the delighted smile plastered on Holtz’s face.

"I'm glad you're not dead."

“That's very sweet. Now go get the scissors and cut this jumpsuit off me, Holtz. Please.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”


	2. "Just two normal girl friends doing normal girl friend things"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure: I forgot about this story. End of the semester was crazy, man. But I'm writing some really angsty stuff right now so I wanted to write some silliness to keep me afloat. Hope ya like.

Holtzmann hummed an unintelligible tune as she marched back to where Erin lied, scissors in hand.

"M'lady. As requested."

She flourished the scissors dramatically and made the cutting motion several times.

Bits of ectoplasmic residue flaked off Erin as she stood up stiffly and spread her arms.

"Help me, Holtz."

Holtz grinned deeply, unable to hide her mirth as she eyed Erin up and down, forming a battle plan.

Erin cleared her throat impatiently.

"Less ogling, more cutting, please."

"Right. Just thinking about the best way to do this."

"Cut it into ribbons. I don't care. Just get this thing off me."

Holtz smirked at her fussy tone.

"Very well, Gilbert. Here we go."

She grabbed a hold of Erin's collar and cut through about a foot of the jumpsuit. The fabric fell away, exposing a simple black bra and bare skin.

Erin didn't wear clothes under her jumpsuit. Holtz's eyes went wide and she froze.

"Holtzmann."

She gulped.

"Yeah?"

"Remember what I said about ogling?"

"No. I mean, yes. Right, okay."

Holtz cut down through another foot of fabric, stopping when she spotted matching black underwear.

"Um, I think that's probably enough."

Erin nodded and moved so that the jumpsuit slipped off her shoulders to the ground. And there she stood, half-naked. Even with the caked ectoplasm in her hair, she was a vision. Holtz's mouth went dry. 

"Um," Holtz managed.

Erin sighed in relief.

"That's so much better. I need a shower like yesterday. Thanks for your help, Holtzmann."

Erin turned to walk up the stairs, apparently oblivious to the effect she'd had on Holtzmann. For a girl who blushed every time Holtz winked at her, how could she not . . . ? Did she really not . . . ?

Holtz watched her go, mouth slightly agape.

She shuddered when Erin dropped out of sight and muttered under her breath.

"Fuck. Me."

 

* * *

 

Erin's shower was legendary. It took the better part of an hour to get all the caked ectoplasm out of her hair, but the sense of cleanliness she felt when she was one hundred percent goo-free was indeed second only to godliness.

Erin appraised her own naked body in the still-steamy mirror, eyebrows slightly furrowed. She ran fingers through her mousy brown hair, now blessedly soft and clean, and contemplated dyeing it blonde again like it had been in college. She could go back to that. She could work it.

Holtzmann’s mane of blonde curls flashed through her mind unbidden and Erin blinked thrice in rapid succession, and Erin felt warmer all of the sudden. She attributed it to the steam. Must be the steam.

She dressed in pajamas quickly, bemused, and made her way downstairs to dispose of her ruined jumpsuit and maybe grab a snack before bed.

Holtz eyed Erin as she walked down the staircase. She was spread out on the couch, one leg casually draped over the vertical end, smiling unabashedly at a wet-haired Erin Gilbert.

Holtz let out a low whistle at the sight of her.

“Hey there, good lookin’.”

“Hi, Holtz.” Erin took a look around the firehouse. “Patty and Abby aren't back yet?”

Holtz shrugged as innocently as she could.

“Who knows with those two, am I right? They could be gone all night. So unpredictable.” Holtz spread her arms wide. “So I guess it’s just you and me tonight, kid.”

“Kid? I’m older than you, Holtzmann.”

"Just a little."

"Over a decade."

Holtz shrugged again.

“Semantics.”

Erin scoffed in amusement and walked over to where Holtz had dumped her jumpsuit only to find it missing, lingering dried flakes of residue the only evidence that it was ever there.

“Hey Holtz, where’s my jumpsuit?”

“Jumpsuit?”

“Yes, Holtzmann. Jumpsuit. The thing you cut off me like an hour ago. I was going to throw it away, or maybe burn it, but it's gone.”

“Ooooh. Right. _That_ jumpsuit. About that, I, uh . . . I took care of it.”

“You took care of it?”

“Ayup.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Well, I’d tell ya, Gilbert, but then I’d have to kill ya.”

Erin stared at her for a moment. She opened her mouth to speak again when Holtz cut her off.

“You seek answers to questions beyond the scope of mortal comprehension. Worry not about the jumpsuit, Erin Gilbert. What happens to it now does not concern the likes of you.”

“Is it in your room?”

Holtz looked around sheepishly, avoiding eye contact.

“. . . No.”

“Is it under your bed?”

“. . . No?”

“Are you lying?”

“. . . Maybe.”

“What are you going to do with my jumpsuit, Holtzmann?”

Holtz stuck out her lower lip and pouted.

“Nothin'.”

Erin shook her head and raised an eyebrow at Holtz, deciding that was enough information for any woman. She made her way to the kitchen to find something to snack on. Holtz, happy to drop the subject, popped up off the couch and followed Erin, hoisting herself up onto a counter near Erin so she could swing her legs.

“So, Gilbert.”

Erin opened the fridge to search for snacks.

“So, Holtzmann.”

“You looked pretty swell with that sword tonight.”

“Think so? Thanks. I felt pretty swell. Until I got ecto-projected on. Again.”

“Yeah, but watching you get all fired up chasing that sucker down after he got you? It was uh, su-per hot.” She clicked the ‘t’ and gave Erin one of her strange, knowing half smiles. Erin rolled her eyes and cursed herself when she felt a blush creep up on her cheeks. She was more than used to Holtzmann’s flirting by now, but Holtz rarely spoke so bluntly and it took Erin by surprise.

She cleared her throat and focused on the ham in the fridge.

“You think me chasing a ghost down like a crazy person covered in goo was hot?"

"Definitely, babe. Bad bitches wielding melee weapons is a huge turn on for me."

Erin stared at her incredulously. Holtz must just be trying to make her feel better. There was no way she could actually mean that. She couldn't. Not about her.

Shaking her head thoughtfully, Erin said, "I’ve got to admit, there’s something satisfying about using melee proton weapons as opposed to the guns. Not that those aren’t great. But that sword is. . .”

“Is what?”

“It’s . . . fucking awesome," Erin laughed.

Holtz gave her a cheesy grin.

“I thought you might like it. A fucking awesome weapon for a fucking awesome woman.”

Erin smiled at Holtz and stared maybe a second longer than was necessary. The way Holtzmann smirked and cocked her head in reply told Erin she noticed her reaction, which only served to deepen her blush. It was a vicious cycle that ended mercifully when Holtz spoke again.

“So, Gilbert. I see by the way you're ogling that ham that you're hungry. What say you and I go out for a bite to eat? Just ah,” Holtz popped off the counter and slinked a few steps closer to Erin, leaning an arm up against a cabinet, “the two of us. I know a great Thai place a few blocks away. They’ve got pad thai like you wouldn’t believe.”

“You mean the Thai place we order from twice a week?”

“That’s the one.”

“Right now?” She looked down at her outfit and grabbed at her wet hair.

“Whenever you want. The sooner the better, though.” Holtz patted her stomach and winked. “Holtzy hungry.”

Erin frowned and blinked at Holtz, who stood grinning slyly at her. To Erin, this sounded an awful lot like being asked out on a date.

But that couldn't be.

Holtzmann didn't like her like that. The flirting was just her normal way of messing around. She was just genuinely hungry. They both were. They were just going to go out to eat. Just two normal girl friends doing normal girl friend things. Right. Yes.

And then Erin put her foot in her mouth.

"Okay, it's a date."

Holtz’s grin deepened immensely.

“Is it, now?"

“I just,” Erin faltered, “I mean, I didn't mean-"

Holtz raised her eyebrows, amused beyond measure at how flustered Erin was.

"Not like, a _date,_ date. I was just saying, I mean, you flirt with everybody, like all the time, but it's harmless, right? You don’t actually like, like me, of course. It's just a manner of speaking. I was just. It was just a figure of speech.”

 _Solid recovery,_ Erin thought,  _now shut up._

But she just couldn't stop herself.

"A girl like you would never want to date someone like me."

_Fuck. What? Why? How did this happen, Gilbert?_

Holtz chuckled, “A girl like me, huh? Don’t sell yourself short, Gilbert. I’ve just been testing the waters.”

She paused and cocked an eyebrow at Erin through her yellow-tinted shades.

“Waters feel real nice.”

Erin couldn’t help but crack a smile despite her mortification. The woman was incorrigible. Holtz slunk farther toward where Erin stood pressed firmly against a counter, knuckles white with tension.

Lips slightly parted, Holtz’s eyes trailed toward Erin’s midsection as she drawled, “Let me take you out tonight, Erin. Girl deserves a treat for kicking that much ghost ass in one night.”

“It wasn’t anything special, really-”

Holtz grabbed Erin by her elbows.

“Erin Gilbert. You cut a ghost in half,” Holtz stepped back to mimic the motion dramatically, “with a proton sword. It was _awesome.”_

Relaxing and fighting back a smile, Erin conceded, “Okay, that was pretty cool. Thanks for the shield, too, by the way. I promise I’ll get better with it.”

Holtzmann beamed at her.

“Totally. I’ll help ya practice sometime. So, whaddya say? Cenar conmigo esta noche?”

“You . . . want me to reupholster your sofa?”

Holtzmann didn’t miss a beat.

“I’ll take that as a yes, Gilbert. Go get dressed. We’re going out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Cenar conmigo esta noche" means "have dinner with me tonight" smdh Erin you're fuckin' hopeless.
> 
> tumblr: itlikesthegirls
> 
> <3
> 
> P.S. I'm gonna change the name of this eventually because it's trash and I am trash and everything is trash.


	3. "Undeterred by the monsters that lurk deep within"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everybody had a great holiday, whichever you celebrate, and I'm so happy you guys are enjoying this. Your comments give me so much confidence and it's really been lovely to finally get some feedback on my writing. I love how positive and supportive this fandom and you all are. But I think that's enough gushing, so
> 
> that being said,
> 
> is this chapter a sick winter coat,
> 
> because it's fucking _filled_ with fluff.

Holtzmann closed the downstairs bathroom door and allowed herself five seconds of giddy panic, then took a deep breath.

Erin said this was a _date_. She had retracted it sloppily and flubbed adorably through her recovery, but Holtzmann knew Erin. She wanted this as much as Holtz did. Now, Holtz could admit to herself that there was a chance it really had just been a slip of the tongue and she had read her all wrong.

But she was pretty damn sure she was going on a date with Erin Gilbert tonight.

Yes, folks, you heard that right. The one, the only,  _the_ Erin Gilbert. The Erin Gilbert who Holtzmann had been pining over for a verifiable  _long ass time,_ with almost nothing to show for it but the occasional blush or lingering casual touch. The Erin Gilbert who had caused Holtz to lose all interest in other women and was the reason Holtz hadn't gotten laid in god, how long had it been?

Knowing how skittish Erin was about her latent bisexuality, Holtz hadn't intended to press the issue that far tonight. She had just hoped for some light conversation and a little one-on-one bonding over eggrolls and spicy mustard, but then Erin had gone and done the damn thing. Holtz couldn't remember the last time she'd been this excited to go out with a woman, probably because she had never been this excited to go out with a woman.  She never thought she would meet anyone so full of wonderful surprises as Erin Gilbert in her lifetime, and god damn if she didn't sound like some sappy teenage love song.

Holtz thought she had sworn off that particular brand of romantic interaction years ago, and yet here she was, psyching herself up in a bathroom mirror like an acne-laden sixteen year old on prom night.

After her first couple of attempts at relationships had crashed and burned, Holtzmann had set up strict rules about these kinds of things that she followed to the letter so nobody on either side got hurt: no feelings, no second dates, no sleepovers. Simple. It had worked out seamlessly for Holtzmann until Erin Gilbert had walked into her lab and consequently her life. Rule number one had long since been thrown forcefully out the window.

Holtzmann couldn't help it. The cute little nerd did things to her. Things no woman had been able to do before. Made her feel all tingly in select places at certain times. Didn't judge her for her eccentricities, even seemed to like them. Indeed, Gilbert had ventured far into dangerous, uncharted Holtzmann waters, and thus far remained unscathed, undeterred by the monsters that lurk deep within. As of yet.

Holtz rested her hands on the sink and squinted at her reflection through her favorite yellow-tinted wayfarers. She ran a gloved hand through thick blonde curls and cleaned up a bit of smudged red lipstick with a fingernail. She checked her teeth and crossed her eyes at herself. All clear over here. Lookin' fine and ready to dine.

Holtz winked and shot finger guns at the mirror before exiting the bathroom and, upon noticing that Erin wasn't ready yet, splayed herself out on the couch to flip through her phone and wait. She wondered how Erin was faring upstairs.

Was she still down for this?

Was she as hyped as Holtzmann was?

And, she thought as she adjusted her tie, had the heart palpitations set in yet?

 

* * *

 

Erin closed the upstairs bathroom door and freaked out internally out for a solid minute, then took a deep breath.

She looked over herself in the mirror and tried not to overthink the situation. She failed miserably. She had, after all and much to her chagrin, blurted out that this little outing was a date. This was a lot, and fast. If someone had told Erin she would end today by essentially asking Jillian Holtzmann out on a date, she would have laughed in their face.

Was she ready for this?

Was Holtzmann as nervous as she was?

And, Erin fretted as she rolled up her sleeves, how was she going to settle her racing heart?

Erin took another deep breath and frowned at her reflection as she flattened the now dry hair on her head. Well, she looked as good as she was ever going to. Erin hoped she was dressed appropriately. She didn't want to get too dressed up, after all they were just getting some dinner spur of the moment, but she didn't want to be so casual that Holtz was offended. Erin had settled on a blue and red flannel button-up and jeans with some nice brown boots and an off-white beanie. She gave herself last looks in the mirror, then made her way downstairs.

Holtz smirked when she saw Erin in the flannel.  _Gay,_ she thought immediately, any lingering reservations Holtz might have had that Erin might not be bisexual squashed down and stamped out.  _That's gay. I am gay and this is gay and everything is gay. The gay is omnipresent, perhaps omniscient-_

"Everything okay?"

Erin frowned at Holtz, who was staring glassy-eyed at Erin's chest almost completely on accident. Holtz blinked rapidly and reclaimed her senses.

"A-OK, champ," Holtz said brightly as she hopped up off the couch. Looking Erin and up down, she felt like a lucky woman.

"You look magnificent. Ready to get your grub on?"

"I was born to eat mountains of Thai food. Let's do this."

|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|

Holtzmann felt as light as a feather. Everything was going so well, better than she could have hoped. Dinner had been perfectly pleasant, she had been perfectly charming, and Erin had been perfectly perfect.

It was a quiet night as far as New York is ever quiet, and Holtz was pleased to find herself comfortable with the silence. Erin and Holtz walked arm in arm on the way back to the firehouse, both women a little nervous but quite thrilled with the contact. Holtz sighed happily and snuck glances at Erin through her periphery.

Look at that beanie. So cute. So unreasonably fucking cute.

"Take a picture, Holtz," Erin said with a smirk, "it'll last longer."

Drat. Caught in the act. Holtz was all fake shock and indignation.

"Erin Gilbert! That's my line!"

"Well, I guess you're rubbing off on me."

Holtz wiggled her eyebrows at the double entendre and rubbed her shoulder against Erin's.

Erin laughed, “You think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?”

“Oh, babe, I _know_ I’m funny. I wouldn't be surprised if you had a lil tummy ache from how much I've made you laugh today alone.”

Holtz poked Erin's stomach for good measure. Erin chuckled and swatted her hand away affectionately.

“The only tummy ache I'm gonna have is from stuffing myself with that much pad thai. And I only laugh because you’re completely ridiculous.”

Holtz grinned and shrugged.

“Being completely ridiculous for you is all part of my plan, Ms. Gilbert.”

“Your plan, hmm?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Tell me more about this plan.”

“Erin Gilbert, I think you know full well what I would have to do if I ever told you the rest of my plan.”

“Let me guess. Kill me?”

“Such a smart little Gilbert.”

Holtz bopped her lightly on the nose with her off hand.

“Such a quick learner.”

Erin rolled her eyes. “You can’t even tell me a little bit of the plan? Just one step?”

“No can do, Gilberoo. I like ya too much to have to end things so abruptly with your untimely death.”

“Mmm, well. I'm pretty sure I'm onto you anyway.”

Holtz raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“That right?”

“That's right.”

“Care to elaborate there, EG?”

Holtz stopped walking when Erin didn't speak for several steps. Erin slipped her arm out of Holtzmann’s and turned to face her on the sidewalk. Holtz looked at her expectantly, swatting down the butterflies that swirled around madly in her stomach.

"Go on then Gilbert, enlighten me."

Holtz took a small, careful step toward Erin so they nearly shared each other's air.

"What am I up to?"

Erin bit her lip and looked down at her boots, trying to gather the courage to say what was on her mind. It was so quiet. 

"I just, um, I mean, I know what I said earlier about you flirting with me and it being harmless and all that, and maybe I've just kind of been thinking lately that it isn't always so harmless? I mean not like, not like harmful as opposed to harmless, not like you're going to hurt me, even though you've been joking about killing me a lot recently, that would be crazy, I just mean like, um, oh god what do I even mean . . ."

_You're rambling oh god, you're rambling and Holtz thinks you're weird and doesn't get it and oh god say something before she laughs at you or just walks away and leaves you and oh god say something._

Erin gulped heavily and tried to collect her thoughts. She got the courage to look up to Holtz, who had leaned forward subconsciously, hanging on every jabbered word and afraid to interrupt for fear of breaking her confidence.

Their eye contact was electric. Erin's voice was just above a whisper.

"Holtz, I just . . ."

Holtz raised her eyebrows in anticipation. Finally. This was it. This was it. This was it.

Erin reached up to tuck a stray blonde curl behind her ear, and leaned in to-

Just then, a scream cut through the night.

_"Ghost!"_

They heard muffled shouts and a loud thud from a nearby building, and turned to it just in time to see a bright ghastly figure burst through the window, spraying shattered glass onto the street. The ghost, at least a T-3, raged up into the sky and let out a terrible shriek.

"Fuck! God dammit!"

Holtz yelled in frustration as she moved to stand in front of Erin, fumbling with the inside pocket of her leather jacket.

"Erin, stay behind me, I got this!"

"What? How? We don't-"

"Just trust me!"

Erin grabbed her cellphone and dialed Abby for backup as Holtzmann finally got ahold of what she was looking for. From her jacket she pulled out a long rod obviously of her own making that lit up like a glowstick when she hit a button.

"Aha!"

The ghost took notice of them from its vantage point, and screeched again before diving head first toward the two of them. Holtz assumed a battle stance and waited until the ghost was just several feet away before pressing another button on her mysterious contraption.

A bright wire shot from the tip of the rod and slammed into the ghost, who howled in agony, shaking in place.

 _A proton taser,_ Erin thought.  _She's unbelievable._

"That's what you get for ruining a beautiful moment, asshole!  _Suck_ it!"

But the ghost didn't dissolve like Holtz expected. It wavered in the air for a moment before solidifying again before inhaling deeply and projectile vomiting a torrent of ectoplasm directly onto one Erin Gilbert. Apparently having had enough, the ghost spirited away into the night, leaving the two women alone once again on the street.

Holtz stood stock still, shock painted on her face. What timing. Right at the good part. Better luck next time, folks.

For the second time today, Erin was drenched in ectoplasm head to toe, worse than any of the other Ghostbusters had ever gotten it. Holtz thought carefully before she said anything. How she reacted to this situation could be a pivotal moment in their relationship.

"Erin," she started.

"No," Erin replied sternly. The older woman also stood still, her eyes closed and arms slightly outstretched so that ectoplasm dripped down in goopy waves.

"Erin it's just-"

"Holtzmann. Do not."

Holtz did a poor job of fighting back a smile.

"It's just, you've just got a little something . . . right, right here."

Holtz took both hands and wiped away as much goo from Erin's face as she could with one swipe. She swung her hands down so that most of the ectoplasm splattered onto the street, scrunching her nose up in disgust before returning her gaze to Erin.

"There."

Erin stared at her.

"All better."

It wasn't.

Holtz gave her a toothy grin.

Erin stared.

Holtz stared back, smile fading slightly.

"Um, Erin, it'd be cool if you said something now, 'cause I'm like.  _Super_ uncomfortable with this silence."

"Oh, are _you_  uncomfortable, Holtzmann?"

Holtz's eyes widened as she realized her mistake.

Erin gathered up a handful of slime from her shirtsleeve, never breaking eye contact with Holtz. Erin took her hand and slowly, ever so slowly, smeared it across Holtz's face, then used her tie to wipe off the excess.

Holtz was like a deer in the headlights, mouth open wide, shocked into paralysis. She blinked twice through her now filthy shades and sputtered, then cleared her throat comically and removed her sunglasses as Erin clenched her jaw, trying desperately to keep a straight face. Holtz didn't even bother to shake off the goop from her shades as she carefully put them on Erin, who bit down on her lip in an effort to not laugh.

But she broke. A snort ripped out of her and then it was game over. She doubled over, tearing up and cackling like a witch. Holtz gaped at Erin in disbelief and then she too was lost to the laughter. They stood alone in the street amidst shards of broken glass and ectoplasm, laughing like a couple of loons.

When Erin regained control of herself, she faced Holtz and spread her arms out wide. Holtz was grinning like a madwoman.

"Do I look pretty, Holtzmann?"

"Baby, you've never looked better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Carrie Fisher, space mom.
> 
> "The only exercise I get lately is running off at the mouth & jumping to conclusions....."
> 
> you're my only ho~


	4. "You're the only cartoon in this joint, Holtzy"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't really know what's up with this, but for now the purpose of this story is just to hopefully add a little brightness to your day and maybe make you laugh quietly to yourself at work. I think we could all use a little humor these days.
> 
> Forgive me for the lack of an actual plot. Maybe something will develop along the way, or maybe it will just be endless chapters of mindless silliness about nothing. Is it postmodern? Your guess is as good as mine.
> 
> Here's hoping 2017 is a better year, or at the very least not as much of a hot, raging dumpster fire as 2016 was.

Erin and Holtzmann walked back to the firehouse in an uncomfortable silence, neither of them quite sure how to proceed after being so rudely interrupted. The mood had stiffened considerably after the laughter subsided. Seeing as how Erin was once again coated in ectoplasm, Holtz had been the one who called Abby back and told her backup wasn't necessary as the ghost had taken off, and that was the last time either of them had spoken.  
  
Holtz subconsciously pulled on her earlobe and chewed on the inside of her cheek, idly kicking a rock down the sidewalk as she tried to collect her thoughts. She wanted to speak up about where they had left off, but she couldn't work up the courage, so she just walked and stimmed, thinking about the perfect way to put her feelings into words, or at least some kind of opening for Erin to talk about hers. That sort of thing wasn’t exactly her strong suit, so she stayed silent.

Meanwhile, Erin was busy trying unsuccessfully to de-goo herself with her hands, which was a lot like trying to wash oil off with water: frustrating and ineffective. Her frustration and discomfort were plain on her face, and rightfully so. Holtz couldn't imagine being slimed like that even once: twice in one day must be absolutely maddening. The little bit Erin had smeared on her face had been nasty enough. Holtz had gotten it off with her sleeve, but despite that she could still feel some residue and Erin was definitely right about it being itchy when it dried.  
  
Holtz's inability to find the right words reminded her of the times as a kid when she would shut down verbally when she was stressed. She wanted to speak, she wanted to say something, anything, but she just couldn't. She would withdraw inside herself completely. Those episodes would last for hours, much to the exasperation of her family until one day her sister, Vera, took her hand and whispered to her, "If you can't say anything, _do_ something." She remembered shaking her head, not understanding.

"It's all in your head, Jilly. Here, try this with me."

Vera pulled out two pairs of headphones and a couple coloring books, and the two girls had sat around for hours, listening to music and coloring in silence until Jillian was ready to talk again.

She had taken that advice to heart ever since. Whenever she started to feel like she might shut down, she stopped thinking and just _did_ something, anything to distract her from her own negative thoughts. It became a habit, and as a result she became a very physical creature. Casual affectionate touching, dancing, unconscious stimming like the earlobe thing. It helped to ground her and keep her out of her own head.  
  
And so, lacking words, she spurred herself into action, grabbing ahold of Erin's arm and trying to help remove as much ectoplasm as she could. Erin was strangely touched by the gesture until Holtzmann leaned down and blew a raspberry on her mostly clean forearm.  
  
"Holtzmann! Seriously?" Erin snatched her arm away. Holtz made an attempt to grab it again and smiled crookedly when Erin pulled away and glared at her.  
  
"Erin, your forearm is prime real estate for raspberries. You have very smooth skin. Perfect acoustics."  
  
"Okay, well, arms don't have acoustics, and I can't believe you just put your mouth on my filthy wrist.”

“Ooh, baby, I love it when you talk dirty to me," Holtz joked with a smile, trying to cajole Erin out of her bad mood.

That comment earned her a blank stare, but Holtz could have sworn she saw a twinge of amusement at the edge of those pretty lips. She decided to throw caution to the wind and reached over to slide her hand into Erin's despite the ectoplasm. Erin hesitated, wary of another trick. She looked to Holtz, who winked, flashed Erin her most winning smile, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. After a moment, Erin interlaced their fingers, and Holtz's gay little heart fluttered.

Eventually, Holtz thought, they would talk about what had happened before the ghost appeared, but holding hands did her just fine for now. Holtz sent a telepathic thank you to Vera, and made a mental note to call her soon.

Erin and Holtz walked hand in hand in a happy silence the rest of the way home.

* * *

Patty frowned at the two of them as they stepped through the firehouse's double doors.  
  
"What in the sweet hell happened to you two?"  
  
“Why don't you ask Holtzmann," Erin said wryly as she began to take off as much dirty clothing as she could while still remaining decent, "she built a light up vomit stick.”  
  
Patty's eyebrows raised at that, and she looked to Holtz for clarification.

"Do I even wanna know what that means?"

“Hey now, Gilbert, I resent that. That's a post hoc. Correlation does not imply causation. You have no way to prove that ghost wasn’t going to barf all over you regardless of whether I tased it or not."

"You tased a ghost? That's actually pretty dope. When'd you build that, Holtzy? You know you still owe me that proton catapult."  
  
"Oh, please-" Erin began, sitting down next to Patty in the kitchen.  
  
" _Personally,_ " Holtz interjected, "I think it's genetic. I have a hypothesis and it goes a little something like this: the Gilbert women all give off powerful ghost-vomit inducing pheromones. Ghosts can't help but lose their lunch when they're around you. Hey, we should test that! You think you could get your mom out here so we could run some field tests?”  
  
Erin pinched the bridge of her nose and processed that.

"Okay, let me get this straight. I just want to make sure that we're on the same page. You want me to bring my mother to a bust so that you can deduce whether or not she emits a chemical that makes ghosts ectoproject on her and consequently me?"  
  
Holtz began to dance to a song in her head, moonwalking around the kitchen island.

"Yes! Whaddya think? Feasible? Too many variables, huh? You're right, it would never work. We'd have to at least have a control subject. Mmmm, tell you what. I'll chew on it and get back to you. Call your mom, though?"  
  
Erin shook her head.

"No.”

Holtz nodded and replied, “I understand. Better if it comes from me. I'll call her.”

Patty waved her hands to try to get someone's attention.

"Am I just talkin' to my-fuckin'-self over here? I swear to god with you two."

"Do not call my mother, Holtzmann," Erin said sternly.

"But-"

"Do not call my mother, Holtzmann."

"Fuck it," Patty said, and opened her book back up, mumbling to herself.

Holtz narrowed her eyes and made an inhuman noise Erin could only describe as a pouty growl.

"You're grumpy when you're all gooey, Gilbert. Ha! Gooey Gilbert. Sounds like a comic book hero. Or a cartoon character!"

"You're the only cartoon in this joint, Holtzy." Patty laughed and made to high five Erin before thinking the better of it.

"Whoops. Nope. No way. Sorry, baby. Miss me with that slimy shit."

Erin nodded her understanding and looked Holtz over thoughtfully.

“You know, I think you might be onto something there, Patty. Holtz is basically the female Johnny Bravo."

Holtz froze and spun to face Erin. She spoke softly and lowly.

“What did you just say?”

Erin blinked, surprised by Holtz's reaction.

“Johnny Bravo?" Erin reiterated, "You know, that old cartoon? I mean, more or less. You're actually startlingly similar, now that I think about it. The hair, the shades, the . . .” She looked Holtz up and down. “. . . demeanor. You're like.  _Jillian_ Bravo.” Erin snorted and chuckled at her own joke.

Holtzmann’s eyes widened and she walked slowly toward Erin, clapping both hands emphatically on the taller woman’s shoulders, ectoplasm be damned.

“Oh. Um, ow.” For a moment Erin was worried, but then Holtz assumed her ultra excited tight lipped smile, dimples and all.

Holtz struggled to contain her excitement as she looked Erin dead in the eye and whispered breathily, “I’ve never considered that before.” She leaned into her and said, “Thank you, Erin,” before clapping her on the shoulders again.

“Um, well, you’re wel-” Holtz didn’t stick around to hear the rest as she spun around and bolted up to her lab, taking the steps two at a time and nearly tripping twice.

Erin blinked again and looked to Patty, who was shaking her head in playful derision.

"Y'all white women are crazy, you know that right?"

"Yes," Erin said demurely, "yes, we know that."

Erin went off to shower and think about Holtzmann. Not like _that_ , mind you. Erin didn't think about women that way, she kept telling herself. Just, she had been really excited about the Johnny Bravo thing. Too excited, perhaps. She wondered if she had unintentionally instigated something she was going to regret.

She found out exactly how much she would regret it two days later when the doorbell rang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless tumblr plug: itlikesthegirls
> 
> I cannot be stopped. I love hearing from you guys! Let me know what you like, don't like, wanna see, etc. Your comments breathe life into me and give me the motivation to continue writing. <3


	5. "A planet full of lesbians doesn't even make sense, Abby"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The sound of the doorbell caused a momentary pause in the incessant clattering of metal on metal from Holtzmann's lab.

“I GOT IT!” Holtz bounded from her floor onto the fireman’s pole, scaring the ever-loving fuck out of Erin until Holtz secured herself with her legs, using her momentum to spin around the pole several times as she slid down. Holtz sprinted to the double doors, yanked them open, grabbed her package, and had time to yell a thanks to the postman before slamming the doors shut again.

“Fuck my _life_ but I love Amazon Prime. Right?” She looked to Erin for confirmation, who hummed agreeably. Holtz walked over to the kitchen table where the others sat. Erin was idly looking over some equations while Patty and Abby were munching on some bagels from the bakery down the street.

Holtzmann's grin had Erin curious. “What'd you buy that you're so excited about? Parts for one of your inventions?”

“No no, my sweet little gingerbread muffin. This is something much better. A little somethin' for mama,” Holtz said, smiling cheerily and pointing to herself with a thumb. Giving it some thought, she added, "And, I suppose, for the world."

Abby and Patty shared a nervous glance, chewing slowly.

"Oh," Erin continued. "Sounds interesting. What is it?”

Holtz looked seriously at Erin. “Erin, I _know_ we’ve talked about what’s gonna happen if I have to answer any of your adorably intrusive questions.”

“Mmm. You're gonna kill me because I asked what you ordered online?”

Holtz shrugged. “What can I say? You will have forced my hand. Much like the laws of physics, I don't make the rules. I just have to abide by them like the rest of we sad, mortal schlubs.”

Erin nodded thoughtfully. "That makes perfect sense."

Holtz raised an eyebrow. "You makin’ fun of me, Gilbert?"

"No, Holtzmann," Erin said, taking a healthy sip of her coffee. "I 100% respect your rules when it comes to online shopping. Don't ask, don't get murdered in cold blood. Easy."

Holtz narrowed her eyes and put on a sly smirk. "I see how it is, EG. You just keep it up, kid. One day you’ll be minding your own business, sippin’ on your little coffee drink there, right on the verge of solving the Grand Unified Theory, and then BAM!” Holtzmann slammed the package down on the table so hard that all three women jumped in their seats, Patty even choking on her bagel a little.

“You’re gonna _catch these hands."_ Holtz made fists and shadow boxed in Erin's direction, bouncing deftly from one foot to the other.

"You would interrupt me in the middle of solving the greatest problem left to theoretical physics in order to punch me because I asked you a question?"

"I would, Gilbert, and my conscience would be clear. Hey, you still carry around my Swiss Army knife?"

"It's  _my_ Swiss Army knife, thank you very much. That's how gifts work."

"Oh, well  _excuse_ me, Miss Gilbert. Do you still carry around  _your_ Swiss Army knife?"

"Always."

"Gimme."

Erin pulled the tool out of her back pocket and tossed it to Holtz, who used the small blade to cut open the box, careful to not let the other women see what was inside. She pulled out the packing list and looked it over before nodding sagely, crumpling it up and tossing it in the trash can.

"And by the way, Erin, if I ever killed you, it would most definitely not be in cold blood. My blood would be very, _very_ hot.” Holtz grinned and winked as she tossed the knife back to Erin to show she was kidding.

Erin marveled at Holtz's uncanny ability to make anything and everything sexual, even the intricacies of a hypothetical murder. The woman truly had a gift. Erin did her best to avoid noticing the way Holtz was looking at her with half-lidded eyes, focusing instead on the steam rising from her coffee mug.

"Somethin' bad is about to happen. I'm not the only one who feels that, right?" Patty looked to Abby through bites of her bagel, who raised her eyebrows as if to say _'Stay out of it for your own good.'_

Erin looked to Patty and Abby, then at Holtz, and sighed. “Honestly, Holtz, I think I’m starting to get a little uncomfortable with how often you reference killing me.”

Holtz smiled at her crookedly. “Well quit stirrin' the pot then, EG. You have no one to blame but yourself.” They maintained eye contact for a few seconds before Holtz scoffed and pouted, taking on the tone and attitude of a child who had been made to apologize but clearly did not mean it.

“Hmph. You play dirty. You know I can’t resist those baby blues."

Erin couldn't help but interject. "My eyes aren't really baby blues, traditionally speaking. They're a little darker than that. Now you,  _you_ have baby blues."

"Your eyes are baby blues if I say they are, Erin Gilbert."

"They're not though. Your blues," Erin began, suddenly unsure about this sentence, "are the only ones . . . that are baby."

Holtz's forehead crinkled as she thought that over.

"So-"

"Just get back to your apology."

"Alriiiight," Holtz drawled, rolling her eyes, "obviously I’m not gonna kill you, despite the silly, _silly_ things you say to me. Case in point: ' _Your blues are the only ones that are baby_.' But I would never hurt you intentionally - mayhaps accidentally via radiation poisoning - I just liked that we had a running joke. But you’re right, it’s inappropriate and insensitive and blah blah blah I'll stop and everything can go back to being boring again.”

Holtz crossed her arms and glared at Erin, sticking her bottom lip out pitifully.

“Wow,” Erin deadpanned, “that was dramatic, even for you."

Holtz's glare intensified, but after a moment she couldn't help but smile in delight. Few things in life gave Holtz as much pleasure as pushing Erin Gilbert's buttons.

Abby cleared her throat from across the table. “Okay, I wanted to stay out of this but now I'm too curious. Spill the beans, Holtzmann. What’s in the box?”

A bright grin lit up Holtzmann's face as she picked her package up from the table. “Can't tell, Abs. Can only show. I'll be back!”

Holtz winked at no one in particular and abruptly turned and ran back upstairs as quickly as she had come down, humming happily the whole way. Patty stared after Holtz as she bounded up the stairs with her mystery package.

“That girl is an alien from Mars. She-”

“Venus,” Abby broke in, “she'd be from Venus. Boys are from Venus. Girls are from Mars.” Abby paused, bagel halfway to her mouth. “Wait, switch that. You know what I meant.”

“See, I don't like that. That's some cisnormative shit. Damn, Abby, I thought you was better than that. What about trans people? Where they from, huh? And besides, how's somebody supposed to even live on Venus? Its atmosphere is toxic."

“Know what, Patty, you're right. I apologize for marginalizing all the hypothetical transgender aliens. They can be from whichever planet they identify with most comfortably. As for living on Venus, lesbians . . . they have their ways, I assume. I don't know how it works. I'm not from there.”

“Oh, so now it's lesbians? All lesbians come from Venus?”

Abby took a big bite of her bagel and nodded slowly. “I did make that leap, didn't I. I guess I was just imagining a planet full of Holtzmanns." Abby shuddered. "That's a terrifying thought, isn't it? But it's like she said, I don't make the rules."

“Well it sounds like you're trying to. And to be honest you're really fuckin’ it up.”

Abby chewed and swallowed slowly, contemplating her life and all the decisions she'd made that had taken her to this moment, this conversation. “I don't know how we got here. I think I was trying to agree with you but I'm honestly not even sure what we're talking about anymore. Holtzmann operates on a different plane of existence than the rest of us. Can we settle on that?"

“A planet full of lesbians doesn't even make sense, Abby.”

“So they developed a way to inseminate themselves artificially to reproduce, okay? They're aliens. Jesus. It was a bad analogy. Can we just- can we just drop it? I'm more worried about what Holtzmann's doing up there so quietly. If there's one thing that concerns me more than Holtzmann making too much noise in her lab, it's Holtzmann making absolutely no noise in her lab.”

“I think it's an important discussion.”

“It's not. It's just not, Patty.”

Erin, who had been watching with narrow eyes, was suddenly hit with an epiphany. She set down her coffee and walked briskly over to the trash can where Holtz had thrown out the packing list for her order. Picking it up and flattening it back out, her eyes widened as she read its contents: one large, red, flat top comb, one pair of matte black aviators, one can of extra strength hair gel.

Erin dropped the packing list and gripped the table with both hands as she recalled her conversation with Holtz the other day. That sounded an awful lot like . . .

“Oh god," Erin said under her breath. "Um, you guys? I think I might have done something uh, something really bad."

Patty turned to her with concern. "What is it?"

Erin gulped and brandished the packing list, displaying it to Patty. "Remember how I sort of compared Holtz to Johnny Bravo the other day? I think, I think she might have maybe taken that to heart a little bit. Maybe."

Realization dawned on Patty. She and Abby spoke at the same moment.

"Oh, oh my god. Lord help us in our time of need."

"You did  _what?_ Have you  _met_ Holtzmann?"

Patty looked genuinely unnerved. "We should, we should go, right? Like, we should really get the fuck outta here. Oh lord, no. No, no, no."

Holtzmann came galloping back down the stairs before anyone had time to prepare themselves. She landed on the tile floor with a loud smack and lo and behold, Erin's hunch had been correct. There she stood, fists on her hips and looking as proud as the day they had saved New York from the apocalypse.

She had donned a pair of black combat boots, light wash jeans, a tight black shirt, and the aviators Erin had seen on the packing list. Her hair was relatively the same, except Holtz had sloppily run some hair gel through it to give it a glossy sheen.

Erin took one look at Holtz and felt personally attacked. Who . . . who allowed this? Who gave Holtzmann the right to look that good? She gulped deliberately and bit her lip to the point of pain.

Holtz ran fingers through her glossy hair and assumed her best model pose.

"Man, I'm pretty."

There was a moment of silence, no one quite sure how to proceed.

"Okay, yep. Not doin' this today. I'm out," Patty said finally. She got up from her seat and made to grab her purse as Holtz intercepted her, sliding inbetween Patty and the table where her purse sat.

"Hey, baby," Holtz said as she removed her shades with a flourish. "Can I be your natural selection?" Holtz clicked her cheek with a wink and shot double finger guns at Patty.

Abby closed her eyes and rested her face in one hand. Holtz had never looked more pleased with herself.

“Holtzy, baby," Patty said, controlling her voice. "Listen to me very carefully. I’m gonna give you two seconds to back the fuck up off me. And then _you_ gonna catch _these_ hands. You got that?”

“God, you're beautiful when you're angry.”

The other three women groaned in unison and Abby glared at Erin.

“You did this, Gilbert. This is all you.”

“Since when do _you_ call me Gilbert?”

“Since you turned Holtzmann into an actual cartoon character. Look at her," Abby exclaimed, gesturing to Holtz. "Look at that! You lost your first name privileges. You can have them back as soon as you fix Holtzmann.”

In the heat of the moment, none of the other women noticed Holtzmann creeping her way over to Erin. Holtz snuck up behind her, tapped her left shoulder, then snuck in around her right so that Erin gasped when she turned back around to find Holtz right there.

"Jesus, Holtz-"

"Hey there, pretty lady," Holtz drawled, brandishing the red comb and running it through slicked back curls.

Erin was trying so hard to keep it together, she really was. She didn't want to give Holtz the satisfaction of knowing the effect she was having on Erin, especially when Holtz was being so deliberately flirtatious. And yet her mouth was dry and it was hard for her to look at anything _but_ Holtz.

Erin gulped and took a deep breath, intent on keeping her cool. "Holtzmann, _what_ are you doing?"

Holtz propped an elbow up on the kitchen table and bit the stem of her shades. "Just enjoying the view," she purred with a wink.

"You know what I mean. What is this?" She asked, eyeing Holtz up and down.

"I think you know perfectly well what this is, Gilbert. You inspired me, remember? C'mon! I'm Johnny freakin' Bravo! I used to love dressing up like my favorite characters when I was a kid. I can't _believe_ this never occurred to me." Holtz did a 360, allowing Erin to fully take in the view, all the curves and perfectly smooth skin. "It's so perfect for me, right? And I have no one to thank but you." She accentuated the 'you' by booping Erin's nose.

That last part earned Erin an exasperated glare from Patty and Abby.

Patty took the opportunity to sling her purse over her shoulder and head for the door. "I'm out.I'm _out,_ y'all."

Abby called after her, "You can't just leave in the middle of the day, Patty. We have work to do."

"Man, we been eatin' bagels and talkin' bullshit for like two hours. We don't have shit to do until we get called on a bust, and there hasn't been any activity all week. And why the hell can't I leave in the middle of the day, anyway? Kevin leaves in the middle of the day all the time. Speaking of which, where is that beautiful man-child?"

"Swimming lessons," Holtz said simply, not taking her eyes off Erin.

"Aw, Kevin gives swimming lessons? That's actually kinda precious." Abby asked.

"Damn, I'm 'bout to sign my ass up for that class. I bet there's a lot Kev could teach me, all wet and half naked," Patty laughed, walking back to the kitchen table to high five Abby.

"Not exactly. Listen, he asked me not to tell you guys because it's a _leeeettle_ embarrassing, but Kev can't swim.  _Yet_ ," Holtz added, protective of her buddy.

Patty's jaw dropped. Abby just nodded like it made all the sense in the world.

"How do you know that?" Erin piped up.

"We text. Like all the time."

"You  _do?_ "

"Is that a twinge of jealousy I detect, Gilbert?"

Erin blushed and stammered, "I'm not jealous of Kevin, of all people, I just meant, I was just surprised he's even capable of texting properly, to be honest."

"Oh, he's great fun. Quick with the gifs, Kev is. Don't know where he gets them all from. I think he's on tumblr a lot."

Holtz turned to look at Erin and did an exaggerated double take, removing her shades to stare. She took Erin's chin in one hand and examined her face with great interest.

"Hey, Erin," she said softly.

All of Erin's muscles tensed at the contact. "Hey, Holtzmann."

She continued to examine her face, eyes flickering up and down, mouth parted ever so slightly, before snapping her eyes up to lock them with Erin's. "Anybody ever tell you I have beautiful eyes?"

"Oh my god." Erin swatted Holtz's hand away and rolled her eyes. That damn woman. "You are the worst," Erin said, trying to hide a blush while Holtz laughed.

"Those baby blues! Ahh, ya love me. Don'tcha?" Holtz asked half-jokingly, eyes alight with curiosity.

"Hmm, I can't say for sure. If I was talking to Jillian Holtzmann, maybe I'd have an answer for you. But this person," Erin eyed Holtz up and down slowly, taking it all in again, "this  _Jillian Bravo_ , I don't know what to think about her."

Holtz raised an eyebrow and cocked her head, a slow smirk spreading across her face. "I know precisely what you think about her," she said with certainty.

"Oh really?"

"Really," Holtz said firmly, without hesitation.

Patty and Abby stared at them, mystified, chewing on bagels. They shared the Look. "Let's just- let's just go," Abby whispered to Patty.

Patty nodded. "If they don't get their shit together soon, I'mma make it happen for them. I'm sick to my stomach. I can't watch them beat around the bush like this much longer, I swear to god. I have my limits."

They crept away, their discretion decidedly unnecessary as Holtz and Erin only had eyes for each other.

Erin's breathing had picked up considerably with Holtzmann's proximity and the look she was giving her.

Holtz smiled easily and took a half step closer to Erin.

"Soooo," Holtz said.

"So."

"All joking aside, Erin-"

"Are you capable of that?"

" _All joking aside, Erin_ ," Holtz barreled through Erin's interruption, "there's something I've kinda been wanting to talk to you about."

"Oh?"

The reality of the moment lost Holtz her confidence. Johnny Bravo would be ashamed. And yet she had to journey onward, no stopping now.

"Yeah so, um, Ijustwantedtosay um, I had a really nice time, uh with you at dinner the other night and, uh, maybeifyouwanted, we could um, maybe-"

Abby and Patty burst back into the firehouse breathlessly.

"Guys! Kevin just called! There's a ghost terrorizing his swim instructor's house, we've got a live one!"

Holtz let out a loud, excited whoop. "No freaking way! Pool ghost?  _Pool ghost!_ I'll pack up the hearse! And get our suits! I can't believe this is happening!"

The three women just stared at Holtz.

"POOL GHOST!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god it's all dialogue what happened  
> pool ghost is one of those phrases that sounds like gibberish when you say it repeatedly  
> pool ghost pool ghost pool ghost  
> let's just call it a character study while I work on serious stuff that I'll never finish because I'm too busy writing this nonsense  
> tumblr: itlikesthegirls  
> <3


	6. Fuck Donald Trump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> turns out a pool ghost ain't all it's cracked up to be
> 
> chapter title has nothing to do with the story, just seriously fuck that guy

Holtz drove erratically, even by her loose standards. Tires skidded, engines floored, tails fished.

Normally one of the other women would say something, tell her to slow her roll, but not today. Patty sat in the backseat frowning into space, absorbed in worry, bracing herself without thinking about it. Erin was fervently biting her fingernails, eyes flitting around nervously, and Abby drummed her fingers on her thigh while taking even, deep breaths to calm herself.

The situation didn't actually sound as serious as they were making it out to be, just your standard "Ghosts? In my bedroom? It's more likely than you think" sort of routine spectral roundup, but everyone was having flashbacks from the last time Kevin was around a malevolent ghost, i.e. the beginning of the Fourth Cataclysm. It was understandably tense.

Not to mention the fact that they had all sort of adopted Kevin as their honorary son. Holtz was the only one who didn't appear to be plagued by bad memories as they pulled up to the frumpy white house, mumbling "Pool ghost, pool ghost, mama's gonna catch a pooool ghost" excitedly in her sing-song lilt as she popped the trunk.

They strapped into their gear as quickly as they could and, courtesy be damned, ran across the freshly-mowed lawn to knock on the front door.

There was no answer.

Patty knocked again, harder this time. "Kev, you in there? C'mon now, let us in so we can do our jobs and save your ass again!"

Nothing. Erin put her ear up to the door. Not a peep from inside.

"You sure we got the right place, Holtzy?" Patty asked.

"Affirmative, Pat-a-tat. Drove Kev here once when his bike was busted. Sweet old lady, Mrs. Thompson. Makes phenomenal snickerdoodles, I'm talkin' world class-"

"Hellooo?" Erin yelled as she pressed the doorbell several times, interrupting Holtz. Holtz jutted her bottom lip out and flicked Erin lightly on the ear.

"Ow, Holtzmann! What the hell?"

"It's rude to cut people off, Erin."

"No, it's rude to distract people who are trying to save other people from ghosts. Now is not the time."

"It's always the time for manners."

"You are the worst representation of that."

Holtz faked indignation. "Erin Gilbert, I am a model of perfect manners." She kissed a fingertip and pressed it lightly to where she had flicked Erin's earlobe. "See?"

Erin relented a little and sighed. "Sorry. I guess I'm just on edge. But you were talking about _cookies,_ Holtz. Kevin could be in danger."

Holtz sulked and grumbled, "Maybe Patty and Abby wanted to hear about the cookies . . ."

Abby patted Holtz on the shoulder amicably. "You can tell us all about the cookies after we find Kevin, Holtzmann. Deal?"

Holtz smiled warmly at her friend. "Dealio. Now then, ladies. If you would all take a step back, it's time to get this show on the road." They obeyed, and Holtz lined herself up and kicked the doorknob off in one clean motion. "Hoo-ah! Jillian Bravo's back in action, baby!" She yelled proudly.

The other women stared at her in amazement.

"Who raised you?" Patty asked.

"The streets! No, I'm kidding. I grew up with eight brothers. Kicking down doors is just one of many survival tactics I picked up in the Holtzmann household."

Holtz pushed the broken door open with her boot and gestured to Erin. "Ladies first," she said with a wink.

Erin obliged, stepping warily inside. They entered into a quaint little living room, the picture of an elderly lady's home. Dark turquoise carpets. Extravagant chandeliers. Doilies. Candles. A terrifying assortment of Furbys that lined the fireplace mantle.

Abby announced their presence warily, worried that kicking down the door didn't draw anyone's attention. "Hello? Kevin? Mrs. Thompson? Anyone home?" She continued when no one answered. "Okay ladies, let's split up. This place isn't that big, they've gotta be around here somewhere. Patty, you take the bedrooms to the left. Erin, kitchen and garage. I'll check the master bedroom. Holtzmann, stay here and keep an eye out."

Holtz gave Abby an exaggerated salute. "Roger that, Cap'n!"

The women took off in separate directions, leaving Holtz alone in the living room. She sucked her teeth and looked around at all the kitschy things Mrs. Thompson had collected over the years, stopping in front of the fireplace where all the Furbys were lined up.

"Ooooh," Holtz cooed, "Wizard Furby. Pretty rare, aren'tcha little fella?"

The Furby's eyes snapped open. "U-nye-loo-lay-doo?"  _(Do you want to play?)_

"Can't, pal. On official business right now. Some other time, 'kay?"

"Wee-tee-kah-wah-tee," the Furby prodded.  _(Sing me a song.)_

"I don't wanna. My friends'll get mad."

"U-nye-noh-lah," Wizard Furby implored.  _(Show me a dance.)_

Holtz narrowed her eyes at the creature. "You drive a hard bargain, Wizard." Holtz backed up and began gyrating rhythmically, not needing music to find her groove. The other Furbys woke up at this and began sputtering happy nonsense at the display Holtz put on for them. Holtz lost track of time, dancing for the hell of it now rather than to please the Wizard.

"Holtz, what the hell are you doing?" Erin had come back first, closely followed by Patty and Abby, who shook their heads to indicate they hadn't seen or heard anything.

Holtz froze mid-gyration. The Furbys blathered on.

"He- He made me do it!" She pointed to Wizard Furby, who had gone silent.

"Son of a bitch!"

"Do you think these things are possessed by the ghost?" Erin asked, hesitant to come any closer.

"Nah, they're kosher. Furbys are just naturally creepy like that. But I'm fluent in Furbish. We have an understanding. Except for that guy," Holtz pointed at the Wizard, "that guy screwed me over."

Patty shook her head slowly. "What is my life."

Holtz ignored her. "So, now that we're done checking out the house, can we go find the ghost?" 

They all turned to look at her in confusion. Holtz threw up her hands in exaggerated exasperation. "Pool ghost, guys. Swimming lessons. The pool." She gestured to the back yard.

A little irritated she hadn't spoken up sooner but deciding that was probably sound logic, the other women conceded. They walked back to the kitchen and stopped in front of the sliding glass door which led to the backyard, gathering themselves before they continued.

"Anyone else a little creeped the fuck out?" Patty said. Abby raised her hand and Holtz and Erin both nodded. "This ain't like Kev. Holtz, you try callin' him again?"

Holtz nodded. "He's not answering. Dammit, this is not the time for H&S, Kev."

"If he thinks we're playin' hide and seek right now I'mma whoop his ass when we find him," Patty grumbled.

"Stay alert, ladies," Abby warned quietly.

Goosebumps prickled on each woman's arms as Patty slowly pushed away the blinds, nervous as to what they might see.

The pool was tranquil and calm. There was no sign of Kevin or Mrs. Thompson from their vantage point. They opened the door and crept outside.

"Everyone be mindful of the pool. Don't wanna be gettin' these babies wet," Holtz murmured, patting her proton pack. The only time Holtz was worried about safety was when her loved ones were involved. The other women nodded their acknowledgement and Patty slapped Holtz on the back affectionately.

The Ghostbusters stood around, suddenly unsure as how to proceed. Holtz kicked a stone and whistled a tune.

"Holtz, try calling him again," Erin offered.

"You got it, sweet cheeks." Holtz pressed a button on her phone and waited.

They heard a noise from the poolhouse. Kevin's ringtone.

Abby gestured for them to move forward silently, stopping at the door to the poolhouse, which was more of a wooden shack they couldn't see into. No windows, just a door with a latch. Abby made eye contact with each woman before nodding gravely. She undid the latch and made to pull the door open just as it slammed open of its own accord, a ghost flying out with a mad screech, Kevin in tow.

The Ghostbusters screamed in surprise and pulled out their proton guns, turning to face the entity. It was a hideous creature, an old man who had ostensibly died in this pool, water-bloated and disgustingly pale.

The ghost hovered ten feet above the water, holding Kevin by an ankle. It taunted the Ghostbusters, swaying him lightly from side to side. It seemed perfectly happy to use him as a meat shield as it waited for the Ghostbusters to make their move.

"Kevin!" They screamed in unison.

"Hey, bosses!" Kevin greeted them amicably. "Just like old times, right, guys? Haha. Whoops," Kevin said, catching his phone as it slipped out of his pocket, proceeding to open it and become distracted as if he wasn't hanging upside down at the whim of a malevolent entity.

"Kevin Beckman, you get down from there right this second!" Holtz scolded Kevin as a mother might scold a disobedient child. Kevin looked up, or down depending on your perspective, at Holtz.

He waved and smiled cheerily. "Hey, Holtz! What's up?"

"You! You are up!"

"Hah! Guess I am. Nice one, Holtz! No worries, though! This old geezer's got a nice strong grip. He won't drop me."

"That's exactly-" Erin started.

"Don't," Abby said. "Just . . . let it go."

"Kevin, how the hell did you keep this ghost from flyin' off til we got here?" Patty asked, ever observant.

"Well, Mrs. Thompson was trying to convince me to jump off the diving board when we heard this funny noise from the poolhouse. I was a little scared so I told her to go check it out. She didn't come out for a while so I went to check on her. She was just wandering around in there all snarly and goopy, and I didn't like that. I kept telling her to stop, but she wouldn't, you know? So I just sorta laid down on her so she couldn't move, like any Ghostbuster would. I had the situation under control. Then you guys showed up, and this guy got extra scared and popped out of her. And here we are! Hooray!"

"You told a sweet little old lady to go check out the creepy noise instead of doin' it yourself? And then you sat on her?" Patty chided. "What the hell's wrong with you, boy?"

Kevin just grinned and gave Patty a thumbs up.

Abby gathered the other women into a huddle. "Listen, ladies, we can't get a clear shot while it's got Kevin. We need to find a way to get that ghost to let him down gently. Anyone have any ideas?"

"Sure do, Abs," Holtz said congenially. "Now, Erin, what I'm about to do might unsettle ya just a titch, but I want you to know I've made some adjustments and you should be in the clear, 'kay babes?"

Well, if that didn't strike the fear of god into Erin's heart. "What are you-"

Holtz cleared her throat dramatically and stepped forward before Erin could protest further. "Kev, touch your toes!"

Kevin, good boy that he is, immediately obliged, providing Holtz with a clear shot at the ghost's lower half. To Erin's shock and dismay she pulled out her proton taser and aimed it at the ghost. Had Erin the chance, she would've said something along the lines of, " _Holtzmann you put that fucking taser the fuck back in your pocket I don't care if you made adjustments_ ," but alas, everything happened too quickly.

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

Holtz fired. Turns out the ghost was smarter than Holtz anticipated. It dodged deftly to the left and narrowly avoided the taser, letting out a terrible raging scream.

"Oh, wuh-woh. Reloading!"

The ghost barreled forward, intent on grabbing hold of another target. It shot toward Abby, who ducked and rolled just in time, avoiding the sweep of the ghost's claw.

"Weeeee," Kevin sang with glee. "Haha. This is fun, huh guys?"

"God dammit, Kevin!" Patty screamed, "Get your pretty ass out of the way!"

The ghost rose and screeched again, taking care to keep Kevin inbetween itself and the Ghostbusters.

"Spread out!" Abby yelled as she stood back up. "It can't cover itself from every angle. Wait til it's low enough to the ground and then whoever has its back takes the shot!"

Each woman made to run to a separate corner of the pool. The ghost, realizing their strategy, didn't have much time to react. It surged forward again, this time toward Holtzmann, who had her back turned. It caught her from behind and swung Kevin forcefully into her from the side. To everyone's dismay, the ghost was  _strong._

Holtz was slammed forward through the air, landing roughly onto concrete and rolling over herself several times before coming to a stop. She let out a strangled scream, then groaned groggily and didn't get up from where she was sprawled out.

"Owww," Kevin whined unhappily, holding his head with both hands as the ghost flew back up into the air.

"Jillian!" Erin yelled in horror, dashing over to where she laid. She knelt down next to her and smoothed over Holtz's hair, surveying the damage. She looked dazed, but she was conscious. There was a trickle of blood spilling down from her forehead more rapidly than Erin would have liked. Her right wrist was crooked and very obviously broken, and her breaths came in pained wheezes.

"Jillian, it's okay, you're gonna be okay-"

"Erin," Holtz gasped, interrupting her. "No time. I'm fine. Taser.  _Taser,_ " she repeated when Erin didn't react. Holtz gestured with her head behind her, where the unactivated rod had fallen from her pocket. Erin snatched it and glanced back to Holtz, whose eyelids fluttered closed.

Erin stood back up to face the ghost, a calm icy resolve settling over her features.

Nobody hurt Holtzmann and got away with it. Not on Erin Gilbert's watch.

"Guys, get ready," Erin shouted, directing her attention back to the ghost when Patty and Abby acknowledged her warning. "Hey, bitch, over here! Come and get me!"

The ghost screamed in rage and dove toward Erin, who ran backward toward the house, giving the other women a clear shot at its back. In its eagerness to get to Erin, the ghost dropped Kevin, who landed surprisingly gracefully, tucking into a roll and bouncing up like a carnival performer.

"Tada!" Kevin shouted, bowing to the ghost, then to Abby and Patty.

The ghost caught Erin by the straps of her proton pack and lifted her high up into the air, screeching shrilly in victory.

Erin felt herself slipping out of the straps and her heart rate skyrocketed. Patty's first shot missed, streaking past Erin as Patty cursed.

Abby's stream, however, hit home. She'd always been a sharpshooter. The ghost screamed in frustration, stuck in place some thirty feet above the pool. The sudden halt caused Erin to fly upward, weightless for a moment before falling back down, one arm slipping dangerously out of its strap from the impact, leaving her hanging on by an elbow, dangling treacherously in the air. Erin screamed and tried not to look down.

Patty and Abby screamed from below, Abby struggling desperately as she tried to pull the ghost back down to the ground. Patty shot again, connecting this time now that her target wasn't moving, and they made a little more progress despite the ghost's resistance.

Surely they planned to capture the ghost, but the trap was attached to the currently incapacitated Holtzmann, and she'd taken a nasty spill with her equipment. Even if Abby and Patty managed to pull the spirit back to the ground, they didn't have any way to capture it safely. She wouldn't trust the trap's integrity. Looking down to make sure she was positioned over the pool, Erin gritted her teeth and made a split-second decision.

Now, Erin Gilbert is by no means an athlete, but she was so hyped up on adrenaline that she felt an amazing rush of power. She grabbed the proton taser with her free hand, activated it, and swung herself back and forth a few times to gain some momentum. On her fourth round she swung up and stuck the ghost right in the belly with the taser with a snarl.

Holtz had said she'd made adjustments. Erin assumed that meant that the ghost was going to disintegrate like she'd planned the first time Holtz had used it. Instead, the ghost exploded into a cascade of ectoplasm, coating Erin and splattering down to the concrete. The  _concrete._

Erin's swinging about had shifted her trajectory, and she was no longer entirely sure she was above the pool.

Erin was too shocked to scream as she fell back to Earth. The drop must have gone by more quickly than Erin perceived, her brain effectively slowing down time through an incredible burst of adrenaline.

She was sure she was going to die. She was too high up, with nothing to stop her fall but solid, cold concrete. Was she still this high off the ground? It felt like minutes had passed, and yet she could still see the tops of other houses in the neighborhood.

A rush of memories flitted through her mind, her brain convinced these were her final moments.

She saw a young Abby and Erin giggling and writing the foundation for Ghosts of Our Past under a blanket fort in the middle of the night.

She saw the look on her parents' faces the day she graduated from MIT, one of the only times in her life they had ever seemed proud of her.

She saw herself the first day she started working at Columbia, one of the only times in her life she had ever been proud of herself.

She saw Abby in that ridiculous helmet, remembered how bittersweet it had been to see her after all those years.

She saw Patty's brilliant, kind smile, and felt a rush of gratitude and friendship.

She saw Jillian.

She saw Jillian and felt a rush of something entirely different.

In a flash, she saw every moment they'd shared.

The first time she'd seen her in Higgins, so strangely charming and erratic.

Jillian giving Erin her favorite Swiss Army knife, a gesture she knew meant something to Jillian that Erin had largely ignored.

All the winks, lines, jokes, and dances, her overcompensation the only way she knew how to communicate her feelings.

The desperate embrace they'd shared when she and Abby emerged from the portal with white hair on that fateful day.

Jillian helping her clean up when she was coated in dried ectoplasm.

Erin acting like she didn't know the effect she had on Jillian when she cut her out of her jumpsuit, like she didn't see the look of raw desire and  _want_ plastered on Jillian's face.

The way they held hands on the way back from,  _god,_ on the way back home from their  _date._  

She saw Jillian, Jillian, Jillian.

Blonde curls, smooth hips, those brilliant baby blues.

Her voice, her laugh, her gorgeous face, those _dimples._

The smile she saved just for her.

In that moment, everything was clear to Erin.

It was Jillian. It had always been Jillian. It would always be Jillian for her.

And wasn't that just perfect? Life would hand her this gift of clarity only to literally smash it to bits in an instant. She would die not two seconds after realizing what Jillian Holtzmann meant to her. 

In a way, it was fitting. That was the way things had always been for Erin. Never quite enough.

Erin closed her eyes tightly, held her breath and embraced her fate.

She wasn't afraid.

Surely, any second now, death would-

By some miracle of nature, Erin landed with a splash into the pool, not six inches away from the edge and her certain death. Her proton pack smashed to the ground a foot away, decidedly totaled but not appearing to want to blow up, not landing in the water with Erin. Another miracle.

For a moment, the rush of water was blissful as Erin felt the relief of a lifetime sink into her.

And then the pool came alive.

The water reacted with all the ectoplasm the ghost had released, activating it and multiplying like shaving cream out of the can. Water overflowed over the edges of the pool as it was replaced with gallons and gallons of the slick goo. Erin flailed around madly underwater, unable to orient herself to find the surface. Panic flooded her system.

Oh, the absurdity. She would be spared from splattering onto the concrete only to suffocate in agony on the substance she hated most in this world. Out of the fire and into the ectoplasmic frying pan, as they say. Her eyes and nose burned from the chlorine, her heart beat out of her chest, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't  _breathe._

Erin thought she heard her friends' muffled voices.

"What's happening? What is _happening?!_ "

"Get her out! Get her out, she's fuckin' drowning!"

"Boss, catch!" Kevin threw the pool skimmer over to Abby, who extended it and immediately shoved it into the water toward Erin.

Erin didn't see it, but she felt it prod against her side. Apparently that way was up. She latched onto the skimmer and pulled to let them know she had a hold of it. Patty and Abby heaved with all their might to get her out.

She emerged with a shuddering gasp, landing with an anti-climactic splat onto the wet concrete. She sputtered and choked, still coated in ectoplasm which continued to reproduce like cancer cells all over her body.

"Kevin, go get us some towels! Hurry!"

"On it, boss!"

Erin choked up a disgusting mixture of chlorinated water and ectoplasm, gagging from the taste and texture. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she caught her breath, shaking violently from all that had occurred.

"Jillian," she sputtered. "Help Jillian."

"Patty, call an ambulance and see what you can do for Holtzmann. I'll take care of Erin."

Kevin threw Abby and Erin some towels from the poolhouse and they got to work cleaning her up.

Patty nodded and ran over to where Holtz laid on the ground. Hesitant to move her in case of a spinal injury, she laid down next to her and petted her shoulder in an effort to wake her.

"Holtzy, baby? Wake up, sweetie, I need you to wake up."

"Hnnn," Holtz groaned, eyes fluttering open lazily, as if she'd just woken up from a long hibernation.

"Hey, Holtzy. Hey, baby, how you doin'? Don't move, okay? Stay right there. Stay with us, baby. Patty needs you to stay awake. Just stay awake. Tell me about them snickerdoodles. Tell me what you like about 'em."

"They're so moist." Holtz grabbed Patty's collar weakly with her unbroken arm, pulling her close to whisper in her ear. "They're so moist, Patty," Holtz whispered as she faded out of consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :o
> 
> lemme know how i did with the not funny stuff
> 
> seriously please leave comments i live for them
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](https://itlikesthegirls.tumblr.com/)


	7. "I'm in opposite pain, surrounded by you gorgeous women"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like everything coming out rn is doing something awful to erin. welp here ya go
> 
> tw: panic attack

Patty, Abby, and Erin ignored the stiffness of their weary muscles as they shot up out of their seats when the doctor finally emerged from Holtz's room.

"How bad is it? Can we see her?"

"Ladies, I'm not at liberty to discuss anything outside immediate family."

"We  _are_ her family."

* * *

Abby squeezed Erin's shoulder gently to wake her from troubled dreams.

"You've been here all night, Er," she spoke softly. "Go home for a while, okay? Take a shower, get a real meal, a couple hours of sleep in your own bed. We'll be here."

"No. She can't be alone when she wakes up," Erin murmured groggily. "You know how she hates hospitals."

"I know, sweetie. We're not going anywhere. Patty's taking her turn cleaning up, she'll be back soon. Just, please. You have to take care of yourself. I'll hold down the fort while you're gone."

Erin's jaw cracked with the size of her yawn as she stood slowly and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "I'll shower, but the food's fine, and I don't mind sleeping here. I'll be back in an hour or so."

"Alright, Er."

"And call me if you hear anything."

"Of course I will."

"I will _never_  forgive you if she wakes up alone."

Tears welled in Abby's eyes. "She's my best friend too, Erin."

* * *

Erin cried bitterly in the shower, shivering under water long since gone cold.

The familiar sense of spacey lightheadedness had settled upon her a few minutes ago. Sometimes inaction helped her to delay the inevitable, so she stared at the texture of her loofah and focused on her labored breathing and the pounding of icy water on her back. Her breath only hitched every one in five. It wasn't a bad ratio, but she knew from experience it wouldn't last much longer.

She knew she needed to get out of the shower and back to the hospital, back to Holtzmann and her friends, but she also knew what awaited her when she returned to the quiet of her bedroom, and so she remained still, letting her fingers prune.

After another few minutes in purgatory, Erin sighed shakily and decided there was no sense putting it off any longer. She closed her eyes and braced herself for the worst as she shut off the water, wanting to deal with anything but this right now but not having a fucking choice.

Her heart beat faster as she wrapped herself in a towel and grabbed another from the rack next to the shower, bending over to squeeze the water from her hair.

She felt like an observer watching her life from the inside when she flipped back up, like she was running on auto pilot down into the dark depths. She grabbed her hairbrush a second before she thought to do so and let things progress naturally from there, resigning herself to the inevitability of what was to come as she brushed the tangles from her hair.

Erin stared blankly at the stranger in the mirror, palms and face clamming up, trying in vain to control her breathing. The more she thought about it, the less control she had. She sat down on the cold tile floor because she couldn't do anything else just then.

Her breaths came fast and shallow, fully hyperventilating now. She thought about calling Abby for support as she was accustomed to, but how selfish was that? Holtz was comatose in a hospital bed with a potentially traumatic brain injury, so who was Erin to complain about a little panic attack?

This was nothing. She was nothing. This was  _nothing._ She was being selfish. She was always so selfish.

She squirmed in discomfort and thought about going through her grounding exercises, but she'd always been a sucker for self-punishment. Fuck it.

She deserved to go through this alone.

She took her towel off and breathed hot, deep breaths into it as she retreated into the recesses of her mind.

Her frantically shifting train of thought flitted from every time she'd fucked up in the last year all the way to the ludicrous epiphany she had during her fall, how absurd it was that she could ever even think about having feelings for Holtzmann.

Did she really think she had a chance with her? How conceited could she be? What the fuck was she thinking?

Holtz had never given her any solid proof that she wanted her, even the "date" they went on could be explained away as simple friendliness, of course it could be.

Stupid. She was so _stupid_.

Holtz could _never_ want Erin. Just look at her, sobbing naked in the middle of the night, worrying only about herself, a self-centered and worthless burden to her friends. She'd be better off alone.

The virulent stream of negativity flooded Erin's brain as she rocked back and forth with her face in the towel, stifling violent sobs and wiping away tears that wouldn't stop. Her head was thick and fuzzy and she could feel her heart beat in her throat, which was drying up rapidly. It became too much to remain sitting all of the sudden so she stood, ignoring the black dots in her vision and stumbling into her bedroom. She wheezed and sobbed as she curled up naked into her bed.

Erin felt small and ridiculous. She didn't have the right to feel this way. Her problems were minuscule in comparison to everyone else's, why couldn't she just deal with them like a normal person?

Why was she so weak?

Why couldn't she be stronger?

She had to be strong for Holtz, had to help her with whatever she needed right now, and what Holtz did  _not_ need was her colleague confessing her latent feelings for her while she was lying broken in a hospital bed. That was assuming Holtz ever needed to hear it. Erin felt less and less secure about that the further down she slunk into her misery.

Her anxiety hit a peak as she started choking on her own air, unable to catch her breath.

She was drowning all over again, her heart raced and her head spun with dizziness.

Her ears rang and she clawed at her numb, tingling face, desperate to feel.

She was overwhelmed; she couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't breathe, couldn't think anything but  _stupid, worthless, ugly, bad._

Her inadequacy and self-hatred compressed heavily onto her chest.

She closed her eyes and opened herself up to the black pain.

* * *

Some time later Erin's breathing evened out, her body stopped shaking, her mind settled and stilled.

She drifted into a weary, dreamless slumber.

* * *

Dust motes fluttered lazily through sunlight that filtered in through the blinds above Erin's bed. She inhaled deeply as she woke.

Her throat was so dry. Her head pounded. She could feel the residual swelling in her face from a long night of crying.

 _Five more minutes,_ she thought, pulling the covers over head to stifle the sunlight.

Wait. Sunlight.

 _Not_ five more minutes. Not five more seconds. She'd slept through the night.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she rolled over to check her phone, which had nineteen unread texts and twelve missed calls from Patty and Abby.

She unlocked her phone and promptly dropped it in shock as someone frantically banged on her apartment door. Someone was calling her name.

Erin sprang out of bed, made herself decent, and ran to pull the door open.

Abby stood in the doorway, concern painted on her face. "Erin! Jesus, why haven't you been answering your phone? We sent you a million texts, we've been calling, what-"

Abby looked Erin up and down, taking in her puffy, bloodshot eyes and disheveled hair.

"Oh Erin, sweetie, what happened?"

"I, I'm. . ." Her voice faltered, and she gulped audibly.

Abby pulled her into a bear hug.

Erin broke down. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm so selfish."

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay, hush." Abby petted Erin's hair and rubbed her back, letting her friend cry it out.

"You had an anxiety attack?" She asked softly.

Erin nodded into her shoulder.

"Why didn't you call us?"

"Couldn't. Wouldn't. Didn't want to," Erin choked out.

"Oh Erin, you didn't have to put yourself through that alone."

"Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Sweetheart, you know you have terrible ideas."

That got a little laugh from Erin. She pulled back from the hug and gave Abby a small but genuine smile.

"I'm so sorry for what I said to you at the hospital. That was so mean and insensitive. You didn't deserve that. You never do. You've been such a good friend to me and to everyone and I just, I just . . ."

"It's okay, Er. You've been through a lot."

Erin groaned. "Can't you just be a little mad at me? You're so understanding it's making me feel worse."

"Okay, well, I'm a little irritated with that response, so yeah, I think I can maybe manage a little anger."

Abby tucked a strand of Erin's hair behind her ear and smiled sadly at her. "You really could have called, you know. You can  _always_ call. We would've talked you through it."

Erin nodded but wouldn't meet Abby's eyes. "You had enough on your plate," she mumbled.

"Bullshit, Erin. We're always here for you. No matter what."

Erin shook her head and sighed, smiling crookedly at her best friend. "You're too good to me, Yates."

"Don't I know it. Now come on, let's get you cleaned up and head back to the hospital. There's a little blonde maniac back there who's dying to see you."

Erin raised her eyebrows. "Abby."

"Yep, that's my bad. Terrible word choice."

* * *

 

Abby noticed Erin fidgeting on the drive back to the hospital.

"Something on your mind?"

"No. I mean yes, but. It's stupid. It's nothing."

"Okay, so tell me."

"I just. I can't stop thinking about, something that . . . happened. During the bust."

"Which part? Lotta shit went down back there."

Erin shook her head. "Never mind. It's stupid."

"C'mon, Er. What is it? Obviously it's bugging you. Is it . . . what caused your panic attack?"

"Maybe. Probably. Sorta. I just." Erin took a deep breath. "When I was falling, I sort of had this . . . epiphany? By the way, the whole 'life flashing before your eyes before you die' thing is totally real. That happened. But then it was like . . ."

Abby waited.

"It was just a lot of Holtz. I just saw Holtz, Abby. I think I might . . . have . . . feelings for her. Romantically." Erin let out a shaky breath. There. She had said it. It was out. Let the chips fall where they may.

"Right," Abby said matter-of-factly.

Erin blinked. "Um . . . I was sort of expecting a stronger reaction."

"Aren't you guys dating?"

"What? Why would you-"

"You went on a date the other night, right?"

"It was just dinner-"

"But you held hands on the way back?"

"Well yeah, but-"

"And you almost kissed?"

"She told you about that?"

"Of course she told me. We tell each other everything. I've sort of been waiting for you to bring it up to me."

Erin was speechless. She opened her mouth, couldn't find the words, and shut it again.

"It's okay. I get it. You're still not totally comfortable with the whole gay thing. But c'mon, Erin."

Erin was silent for a moment. "This is not how I saw this conversation playing out in my head."

"You guys should really talk it out."

"We've tried to," Erin sighed, "we keep getting interrupted."

"Well, make it happen, sister. Patty and I are at the end of our rope watching you two blushing maidens flirt like middle schoolers. I know it's driving Holtz crazy."

Erin cleared her throat as Abby pulled into the parking lot. "So, how is she?"

"Who?"

Erin gave her a look that made Abby snort.

"She's okay. Really. They took her in for surgery for her wrist, and her ribs will heal on their own. She's got a concussion but it's not as severe as they thought. She's gonna be fine."

Erin nodded and exhaled deeply in relief. Abby clicked her tongue as Erin checked her makeup in the mirror again.

"Quit- Will you quit fussing? She's not gonna notice anything."

"How do you know? I just don't want her to worry."

"Trust me. Her doctor has her hopped up on painkillers. She's high as a kite."

"Oh.  _Oh._ "

* * *

Hopped up may have been an understatement. Erin and Abby walked into the room to be greeted by a loud, exaggerated gasp from Holtz. The color had returned to her cheeks and the doctor had removed the gauze wrapped around her forehead. Erin noticed how young she looked without any makeup and her hair tied back in a messy bun.

"Abby! Welcome back! And Erin! You're here!" Holtz pointed at Erin with her lime green cast and looked to Patty, who was holding her hand. "She's here, right, Patty? Patty-pat. Patty bo-batty banana-fana fo-fatty, Patt- _ayyy,_ " Holtz sang.

Erin looked to Abby with wide eyes. Abby returned her look with a smile and mouthed "Told you."

"She's here, baby. And I'm gonna let it slide that you just called me fatty 'cause you're high as hell and it's part of the song, but you watch yourself."

Holtz was plainly mortified as she sloppily stroked Patty's face with her uncasted hand. "Oh my gosh, no! I didn't, I didn't mean it like that! I'm _sorryyyy_. Noooooo, Patty, no no no. My most beautiful of Patricias. You are so beautiful and so perfect. My love. I'm sorry. Patty no." Patty nodded and let Holtz pet her.

"Hey, Holtz," Erin piped up. "It's good to see you up and around. And . . . in such good spirits!"

Holtz brightened up, Patty appeased. "Good to see you too, Gilberoo! Oh my gosh, really good. Reaaaallyyyy goooood. _So_ good. Good good _good_."

Erin suppressed a smile and glanced at Patty, who shook her head in amusement.

"She's been like this for hours, man."

"Been like what?" Holtz asked, turning to Patty with a goofy smile.

"Like they gave you the good shit."

"They better have, Patty."

"I'm sayin'."

"Good shit."

"Yes, baby."

"Yes. Yep. _That's._ Why you're all here," Holtz said, gesturing to the three of them. "My family's the best. Only the good shit for Holtzmann."

Patty snorted with laughter and tried to get up from her seat when her phone rang, but Holtz wouldn't relinquish her hand.

"Where are you  _goooooing?_ "

"It's Kevin, baby, I gotta take this. He's droppin' somethin' off for you. Gimme my hand back."

Holtz gasped with excitement. "Kev! My best bud! Oh my gosh! Lemme talk to him!"

"Let go of my hand and I'll let you talk to him." Holtz quickly obliged.

"Ha! Too easy, fool." Patty answered the phone and walked toward the door, "Kev? We're on third floor. No, not the roof. Why would you think she's on the roof?"

"She tricked me," Holtz pouted.

"She did," Abby said apologetically as she and Erin each took a seat on either side of Holtz.

"How ya feelin', babe?" Abby asked, stroking Holtz's hair affectionately.

"Great! Super good, Abs. Both fine _and_ dandy. All my friends are here, and I have a sweet new cast. Haven't had one since I was a wee little Holtzmann. Couldn't be happier. Super, super goody good good."

"What's your pain level?" Erin asked, holding back a laugh.

"Zero, zip-aroo! No pain. All gain. In factI'm in _opposite_ pain, surrounded by you gorgeous women. Everywhere I look it's like,  _fuck._ Art in the female form. It _gives_ me life. I feel great!"

"I'll bet you do," Abby chuckled softly, sharing a look with Erin. Holtz grinned and stared at Erin unabashedly.

"Something I can help you with?" Erin teased.

Holtz just shook her head and continued to stare.

"It's rude to stare, Holtzmann."

"It's rude to be that fucking beautiful, but I'm not complaining."

"Okay," Abby said. "I'm gonna go check out the cafeteria, see what the soup situation is down there. You two play nice." Abby shot Erin a meaningful look before standing to leave.

Holtz went back to staring at Erin as Abby walked out, leaving the two of them alone.

"You're preeeeetty," Holtz drawled, reaching for Erin's face.

"Thank you. I think maybe you should get some rest, Holtz," Erin offered, leaning out of reach and rolling her eyes amicably at the look on Holtz's face.

“Don’t wanna rest," Holtz pouted. "Been resting. Done resting. Wanna talk to ya, babe," Holtz tapped her lightly on the nose when Erin leaned back in. "Missed ya."

“I want to talk to you too, actually." Erin blushed and cleared her throat. "There’s something I really want to talk to you about. But um, actually, never mind. This is bad timing. It can wait until you’re . . . feeling better.”

Holtz’s eyes perked up in curiosity. “You can’t just . . . say that and then . . .  _not_ tell me.”

“I can. I just did. That’s what’s happening.”

"But we talked about _manners,_ ” Holtz whined.

"Mhm, we did. And it would be rude of you to push me."

"Sneaky minx." Holtz licked her lips and coughed lightly. "Can I have some water?"

"Of course!" Erin sprang out of her seat. She brought back a full cup filled with ice chips.

"Crunchy water! The best kind! Thanks, baby."

"Some people call it ice." Erin picked absently at loose strands on her jeans while Holtz chugged the water in one gulp and chewed mouthfuls of the ice chips with exaggerated fervor. When she was finished, Holtz attempted to sit up a bit and was promptly denied by her fractured ribcage. "Ow. _Owwww_ ," she whined.

"You cracked those, remember?"

"Sure do. Cracked 'em good. 'Bout to pour some barbecue sauce on 'em and eat 'em up, so good I cracked 'em."

"That . . . doesn't make sense."

"Delicious, _saucy_ cracked ribs."

Erin really didn't know what to say to that.

"Mmmm," Holtz purred, smiling strangely at Erin, eyes twinkling.

Erin couldn't help but laugh. "You're decidedly terrible at flirting when you're high."

"Am not," Holtz said defensively. "I'm the best flirter that ever flirted. I live and breathe the flirt. I am one with the flirt and the flirt is with me. You should _know,_ but you  _don't_ know, 'cause you never, you don't . . ." Holtz trailed off, glaring playfully at Erin.

"You think I don't know you flirt with me?"

Holtz shrugged, suddenly very interested in the texture of her cast. "Never mind," she grumbled.

Erin took Holtz's hand. "We'll talk later."

"Yeah, yeah." Holtz blinked deliberately and gasped like something just occurred to her. "Oh my gosh. Erin, I forgot about Mrs. Thompson! What happened to her?"

"Oh. Ms. Lynch told Abby she's shaken up, but no worse for the wear. The city's paying to fix her house and redo the pool. She's a tough cookie."

"Someone say cookie?" Patty entered the room with her bright, contagious smile, shaking a plastic bag full of Mrs. Thompson's famous snickerdoodles in Holtz's direction. 

Holtz gaped excitedly and grasped at the air. "Patricia Tolan! You didn't!"

Patty laughed and grinned, "Oh baby, I did. You know I did. All for you, too, I don't wanna catch either one of these fools tryna sneak any of these. You earned 'em," she joked, almost tossing the bag to Holtz before catching herself. "Shit. I totally almost threw these on your broken ribs. My bad, Holtzy."

"I woulda caught 'em," Holtz said defensively, eagerly snatching the bag from Patty when she approached, tearing into it and snarfing down an entire cookie in two messy bites, moaning in pleasure through her stuffed mouth.

Erin watched with raised eyebrows as Holtz downed two more cookies in rapid fashion before grunting in contentment.

"Nothin' like cookies to make a girl forget her troubles, am I right?"

"Wouldn't know," Erin said, eyeing the bag.

Holtz narrowed her eyes and clutched the bag to her chest. "I sense your desire, Erin Gilbert."

Erin licked her lips. "I might . . . possibly want a cookie."

"Yes. Indeed. But what are you willing to do for one?"

"What?"

"You said you'd talk about the thing when I'm feeling better. Well I'm three cookies deep and feelin' fine. So dish, Gilbert, and maybe I'll reward you with a delicious treat."

"That was like two minutes ago, Holtzmann. I meant when you're not on drugs. We're not having this discussion when you're high."

"I'm not high."

"You're high."

". . . _You're_ high."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote the panic attack at like 3 am a few nights ago and thought about posting it on its own, but i had to add a little sugar today to balance out that bitter angst coffee bc wow i straight up missed the exit to the shining metropolis of holtzbert and had to take a long detour through gloomsville i am Sorry
> 
> comments make my day


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